Piece of cake
by chrysalis escapist
Summary: when Stella is worried over Mac, Adam tries to help - and it leads to more
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the CSI:NY characters****, but I do have some pretty good recipes for cakes.**

Stella walks down the corridor. Labs to the left, labs to the right. She doesn't enter any of them. She stays in motion. Her high heels send clicks in all directions, reflecting off the walls. If she closed her eyes she would still find her way. They have walked here so often.

If she closed her eyes the sounds she hears would tell her where she is. A printer wheezing to her right. It should have been replaced weeks ago, but it's not something that will make a difference when catching a criminal so they drag it along. Voices on her left lowering to an embarrassed whisper every time she passes. She has lost count of how many times that has happened today, that trying to conceal a budding love. She's lost count of how many times she has felt his hand on her back, today, like a ring more felt when taken off. Feeling the lack of it. She concentrates on the sounds.

The sounds of the lab on any day. No hectic, business going on as usual. That's what he had said before he left. _Business as usual. Keep it up, don't let it show._ So she's trying. She puts on a show, passing along the corridors as she does so often. But she's not going anywhere, she just has to keep moving because otherwise time might stand still. And along the way she hears the sounds of the lab as if it were a normal day. Because nobody is looking for him.

If she closed her eyes, could she imagine that it is just another day? She doesn't want to close her eyes. She's sure then she would only hear the one sound that she misses. Footsteps at her side, firm and steady. Walking along the corridor together. Hearing the same sounds together. Staying in motion because that helps them think, helps them make progress in a case. But she's not getting anywhere. Maybe she should stop walking, stop thinking about it. Sit down and relax, that's what she would tell him to do. And he wouldn't listen, just like he hadn't listened when she had told him not to take that risk. Just like she wouldn't have listened, had it been the other way around.

If she closed her eyes the sounds she hears would tell her what she is.

Alone. Left behind. Worried.

An unexpected sound sneaks into her awareness. She may as well have had her eyes closed, walking along so lost in her thoughts, unseeing. The difference in the sound pattern alerts her and she looks up to see Adam stand in a doorway with a box. A tentative half-smile on his lips. She returns it.

"I … hum," he starts, "I've got some cake and was wondering if you'd like a piece?"

She looks at him. _Cake?_

"I thought … maybe, it might make you feel better." he explains, "You seem a bit … well, with Mac gone, I mean … not …" He stops, unable to find the right words. He thinks he sees a glint in her eyes that has nothing to do with her usual sparkle.

He opens the box to reveal several pieces of different cakes. "It helps me, especially the ones with chocolate."

She still looks at him, the color creeping into his face. She doesn't quite know what to say.

"I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me. I didn't … didn't mean to intrude." He looks down at the cakes and a connection leaps into his thoughts, flushing more color into his face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that it's so simple, that it's just a piece of cake … but … Mac, he was a marine. He will get through this."

A marine, yes. It was precisely that background that made Mac so suitable for this undercover mission. And his experience will help him sure enough. But to send Mac Taylor on an undercover mission in New York, how does that make sense? The chances that his cover will be blown are just so big._ Never mind that lately he has just seemed to be a Mac-net for trouble._ But he's not known under that name for the moment. She hopes that will help.

She realizes that Adam is still apologizing. "Adam. Adam," her hand on his arm she's able to stop him, "I'm sorry. It's okay, really, you did nothing wrong. I'm sorry, I was just so surprised." He looks at her and she continues, "That's very nice of you. But I'm not having one without you, so let's go to the break room and make some coffee, okay?"

He nods and follows her. They sit down, the coffee machine purring comfortably in the background. Stella chooses a cake with cinnamon and other spices and puts it on her plate. She's already feeling better, not alone in this.

Flack enters the room, "Hey, cause for celebration? Why wasn't I told?"

"No cause for celebration yet." Stella explains, "But Adam has thought of providing some comfort food."

"Wonderful idea." Flack says. "Could I have some too?" he turns to Adam.

"Yeah, sure, just … um," Adam looks at Stella, "which one do you think Mac would … like best?"

Her finger is pointing to a piece with a chocolate harp on it before he can finish the sentence.

"Irish Coffee, I should have guessed." he mumbles. Carefully he sets the piece apart from the others, then lets Flack take his pick.

Flack chews the bite of chocolate cake delightedly. Comfort food indeed. And he is worried about Mac too while he knows that for Stella it's much worse. And he starts just like her when her cell rings.

"Mac!" The relief is obvious in her voice.

"_Am I interrupting anything?"_ Flack hears the head of the lab ask, sees a smile spread over Adam's face.

"Is it over, you got him? Where can I pick you up?" Stella asks instead of a reply. She's already standing, ready to leave. Not breaking up the meeting, just fetching one more guest.

Flack shovels another forkful of cake into his mouth. Cause for celebration.

"Hey, Adam." Stella spares a moment to pull the lab tech into a hug, "Thank you."

And she's off, down the corridor, the sound of her footsteps the rhythm of a joyous dance.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read. I hope you liked it. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. All comments are welcome any time, and I'm willing to share recipes with my reviewers :).


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews I got for this ex-one-shot, also to **_**autumngold **_**and**_** key-ra, **_**sorry I couldn't send a proper reply. Some people asked if there could be more to this story, and I've had a horrible week, so more comfort food is called for … and here goes a second chapter.**

Mac closes his eyes, a soft breeze brushing over his face. His hand is on the railing, feeling flakes of paint lift like a breath under his touch. It's quiet where he is, quiet now, after his work is done. Traffic flows past somewhere in the background. He lets it drift away; it has nothing to do with him. Not now. He sits down on the steps and lets the river lick his fingers and wash away the days. Never the same water. It's over.

He's glad it's over. Three days of slipping into a different skin, of wearing another name, he's glad it's over. Glad to be himself again, feeling no cloak of vice around him. It slips off his shoulders, taking the worry along. The same worry he had felt fold around Stella when he left, and that he had felt lift from her voice when he called. The same he would have felt had it been the other way around.

He leans back, resting his weight on his hands, and lets the reflections of the evening sun play over his face. This day is almost over and he can go home. He chuckles a little at the thought where _home_ is most of the time. He sees nothing wrong with it, after all the people he considers his family are there too.

He hears footsteps, _her _footsteps, familiar sound waves under his fingers. In the last rays of the sun a smile curls his lips. He feels a silent question forming because of the silence he keeps.

"I'm okay." he answers it, "Really." And turning upwards he opens his eyes to let her see the truth. To confirm what she hears in his voice.

The sun comes up again in her smile. He gets up and together they walk to her car, his hand on her back. For a moment he thinks she seems to be leaning into it. He lets the warmth of the touch flood through him. Like water, cleaning him. Himself again, with the one who knows him so well.

They spend a good part of the ride in silence, Stella smoothly steering the car through the stream of traffic. The humming of the air-conditioning a comfortable backdrop. He lets the cool air flow into him, lets it replace the staleness of the days undercover, life in the underground. It was really under the ground, submerged, submarine.

Another glance of hers glides over him, transporting relief. "So," she asks, "what happened down there?"

He tells her, everything; all the little moments of crushed hopes and growing concern, and finally the triumph. No words are needed between them but the sound of his voice is welcome. "And how were your days?"

"Quiet." she muses, "Sort of …"

"Did I miss anything? Don't tell me you replaced that printer?" he asks with a lopsided smile.

She chuckles softly, shaking her head.

_I did miss something for sure_ he thinks, _you by my side._

She looks at him, radiating warmth.

They pull up outside the lab and walk inside. And she feels his touch again, on her back. He takes in the familiarity of the place with pleasure. _Was it really only three days?_ Even the air that he breathes is full of welcome memories. Welcoming smells meeting his nostrils as Stella guides him towards the break room.

He looks at her inquiringly, "You've got coffee ready?"

She beams with delight, "And there's more."

Mac peeks into the break room. Flack, Adam, and cakes. He looks back at Stella who gently pushes him towards the table.

"We've kept a piece especially for you." Flack greets the CSI, "Welcome back to the good side."

"I hope you mean the good side of life by that." Mac smiles wryly as he sits down.

Adam pushes a piece of cake towards him. "Irish coffee." the lab tech explains.

It does indeed look like the good side of life, Mac takes a bite, and it tastes like it too. He looks into the round, relishing the feeling to be amongst friends. The people he can rely on. More than just co-workers. No need to hide anything, no need to pretend. They are all who they are, complete with their faults and pains, and their strengths and joys.

"You know," Mac says, "I think we should do this more often, get together not just for work."

Flack nods enthusiastically to say yes. He's not in a hurry to swallow the goodness he's chewing on. Adam gives him a sideways glance and the detective shrugs, then points at them all around, including himself.

"I guess Flack wants to say that you don't have to be the only one who provides the cakes." Stella speculates and Flack nods again, drawing a shy smile from Adam.

"And of course all the others are welcome too, Angell," Mac adds, looking at Flack, "Danny and Lindsay, Kendall," his look moves on to Adam, "Hawkes, and Sid." He smiles at the thought of maybe having a bone-shaped cake on his plate soon.

Mac feels Stella's arm against his, feels the glow of her happiness wrap around him. The warm buzz of their conversation fills the room. Mac closes his eyes and lets the feeling settle. _Home, comfort._

* * *

Thank you for taking the time to read. I hope you enjoyed this chapter too. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. Also, should I continue this the way Mac suggested? I've got more recipes to share :).


End file.
